The Babe with the Shades and the Cigarette
by Zidell Retrix
Summary: Squall raves with Quistis' sparkling attire, and discovers more of night life and his reality according to Quistis.


**The Babe with the Shades and the Cigarette**

_"It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it."_  
- Aristotle 

Squall pried his tired eyes off his laptop, his mind dazed from working so long. "This will be a masterpiece of analytical literature," Squall sighed, "The first book on how GFs' altering of people's minds directly affects the movement of the multiverse. I'm so alone, but when this is published, I'll be an author just like everyone else at Balamb." He smiled slightly at this thought, absently fondling his outdated laptop, "I wonder if I could be as good as Quistis; her and her bestseller, "'How to Prepare a Rewind Apple in less than Five Kelvins'," Squall slowly formed an idea, tugging at his tiny jacket, "I've had this since I was eleven; I should get something new, something that'll make me look like an author. I'll check out Quistis' wardrobe; I'm sure she'll have 'guy clothes' in there." 

Still dark, Squall stumbled through the dormitory hallways, searching for Quistis' room. As he neared what he thought was the Balamb Hall Bar, he promptly dropped to the floor with a thud. 

"Ow!" Rinoa shattered the silence, searching through the blackness for her offending party. 

Squall looked curiously in the general direction of his offending party; "Rinoa?" he asked thoughtfully, "Are you okay?" 

Rinoa flung her arms out haphazardly, trying to hit Squall, but with no luck. 

Squall deduced from the rustling that Rinoa wasn't in the greatest mood, deftly stepped over her, and continued his personal mission. 

"Squall, I know it's you. Don't walk away. Come here. I need money!" Rinoa shouted, half pleading, she collapsed and gave a melodramatic moan, sobbing. 

Squall broke into a sprint for Quistis' room, letting Rinoa be enveloped in the darkness. "Dependent malcontent," he muttered, "so blind and conventional." 

Within a short minute of breathless running, Squall stumbled upon Quistis' door, lightly tapping the wooden slab. "Quistis, are you there? May I unorganized all your clothes and 'borrow' a few?" Squall asked eagerly. 

The door slowly opened, revealing Quistis all adorned with blazing blue-spiked leather bracelets and a large, overpowering cherry cape. Her spidery, spiky hair dripped shiny silver sparkles. Her face twisted into a quizzical look, she began in bewilderment, "Squall, what are you doing? It's 4 AM!" 

Squall, still surprised and speechless from her nightly attire, explained his situation, "…Hey Quisty," he began in a sugary tone, "I was wonderin' if I could borrow some of your cool, authorative outfits." 

Her eyes lit up as if the sun's essence burned into her lofty cones and rods, "Squall, it's the night of the Great Wave Function Collapse. I'm on my way to the smashingly bright, bouncing, flashing rave. Come with?" 

He stuttered, "But, um, but I want clothes." 

Quistis prepared to backhand him, but stopped. "Come inside and I'll help you. Don't question me. Tonight is a night to be completely different from yourself," she went on mystically, "Call me Quantara; you will be Pandora." 

Squall, with an uncomfortable grin, responded wryly, "But 'Pandora' is a gir…" 

"Sh'up or I WILL backhand you. I'll get you some clothes; you'll put 'em on and pack yourself with glow sticks and we'll get going." 

He could do nothing more than to obey her unquestionably commanding orders, following her into her very utilitarian room. Quistis stood beside the large walk-in closet and motioned for Squall to find something he liked. 

Without hesitation, Squall went swiftly into the closet's depths, rummaging through the wide variety of garments. "There aren't any guy clothes in here at all…" 

Quistis ripped Squall from a flowery purple muumuu. "Here, I'll find you something," she said, disappearing into a darker corner of the closet. 

Squall heard some clangs and rustling before she returned with a bundle of black leather, some furry stuff, and a few shiny, colorful pieces reflecting brilliantly. "Put this stuff on, I'll be waiting outside by the Tigres. I'll be expecting you in fifteen minutes." Quistis commanded as she started to the door. "Oh, and you'll want some Odyssey for the party," she said as a last remark, throwing Squall a small blue box, shutting the door behind herself. 

Squall fingered the etchings on the box a little, "Hmmmm…a smiley face…looks quite happy." He looked at the bundle some more and started to go through it, planning on what to put on first. "Wow, isn't that a feather…and vinyl boo…sunglasses…" He began his work, quickly throwing everything onto himself, and walked out, continuing to add the accessories still in his hands. His tall, slender, buckled leather boots powdered the floor as he walked in anticipation of the pounding music at the rave. 

Rinoa, still in the hallway, squinted ahead toward the incoming person. She whispered to herself thoughtfully as she tried to make out the figure, "…such glinting shiny stuff all over…closer…he walks so confidently…is that a boa….those boots…they're defiant." 

Squall walked swiftly past Rinoa, his face red with embarrassment, "Ah! Oh, hi Rinoa. *cough*" He ran to the exit, his four-meter black feather boa trailing behind. Opening the door to the parking lot, he lunged into the Tigres, almost losing his balance. In the blackness of the car the green neon trim on his clothes glowed luminously. 

Quistis, her hands on the chrome steering wheel, looked over at Squall and smiled wide with approval. "Squall, you will be the master raver." She shoved the gas pedal way into the shag carpet floor, sending their sleek car screaming toward Deling's heart. 

Squall gripped the door handle, eyeing the radiating pacifier hanging from his neck. 

They flew along the main street, techno music thumping throughout the car from the internal computer, blue and green flashing lights from the synthesizer reflecting from the rounded leather dashboard, spraying colors across the windshield. "You go to raves often, Quistis?" Squall asked, trying to break the communication silence. 

"No, only on special occasions like this and when DJ Invader is playing. Squall," she continued, "you have no culture. I'm sorry to say this to you, but you're in stagnation, always hunched over that darn terminal and spending all your chinyen on that whining baby." 

Squall took defense, "Rinoa is not a baby!" 

"She still call her dad 'General Caraway'?" 

"…Yeah, but that's just because her dad won't set her credit limit above a hundred thousand." 

"Oh, right, that doesn't make someone a whiny person, does it?" Quistis replied, giving a definite end to the argument. 

"The relationship is over anyway," Squall said, depressed, "she's become an anorexic drunkard, obsessed with washing her hair over, and over again. She called me a 'whore' yesterday, Quistis. And now she saw me in this…she'll think I'm a drag queen! I'm sure she's talking to her father right now. I'm done with as head of Garden!" He looked like he was going to cry; staring vaguely into the distance, he put his sparkly head into his lap. 

Quistis looked genuinely concerned. She took her eyes off the road for a few seconds to pat him on the back. "It's alright, Squall, she was much too drunk tonight to understand anything. As I passed her on my way out she called me 'Aunt Jamima,' so, you know. It'll be fine." 

Squall smiled again. "You're right. It's going to be okay. On to the party, Quisty. We're the space invaders, the few retaliators; we're going to take it higher." 

Quistis mussed up Squall's hair a bit, looking over to her left, and slowed the car to a full stop. "We're here. C'mon, let's dance." Quistis said laughing a bit, getting from the car." 

Squall slowly climbed out, looking extremely interested at the large warehouse with people pouring in. Walking with Quistis into the intense revelry, he immediately noticed that Zell moved violently atop a large, shining purple platform, doing some sort of dance move that paralleled his fighting technique. 

On a similar platform on the other side of the room another dancer pushed out the same aggressive moves, but he had big, spiky white hair and massive, strobe light balloon pants. 

Immediately the pulsing crowd surrounded Squall, suffocating him in heat. Quistis disappeared to the far wall, buying balloons from a fat, hairy little man with dreds. 

Squall slipped in some Odyssey and began moving to the music more intensely, joining the stirring mass as they converged into the music, becoming the light of sound. He smiled brightly, unaware of everything but the kind light and the living sound waves. The people were a part of him, and he a part of them. 

Quistis inhaled a large blue balloon, sitting dazed and cross-legged at the entrance with a group of ska punks. "Hey guys, you know what? What? Hey…what? Guys! Where are the other Pandoras?" Quistis driveled some words out, not quite sure what she's trying to communicate. "Where's some…Odyssey! God, I forgot it!" 

"Lady," the guy sitting to her left answered, "there's lots around so dun worry. Hey, there's a guy on the left platform who's looking at you." 

"Guy?" Quistis peered at the faraway platform, her vision pulsing with so much light that she couldn't make out anything. 

The ska punk began again, "Yeah, he's been staring at you for like five mins…maybe he wants some." 

"But I don't have any….Hey…Woah…that's….Zell." Quistis got up uneasily and jogged toward the platform, leaving the punk to gaze at her posterior before she disappeared into the crowd. 

Zell kept staring into the distance, paying absolutely no attention to Quistis scaling the platform. 

"Zell, what are you doing?" Quistis broke Zell's stare. 

"….." Zell peered dazedly at Quistis' head, "…..the dude on the other platform flew into the entrance, but he didn't make it outside. I think he's dead, like a bird into a window." 

"You mean that guy with the humungous pants? They must've been filled with hydrogen" Quistis quipped. 

"Nah, nah. Helium. If it were hydrogen he would've burst into flames by now." Zell said, bunking Quistis' claim. 

A girlish scream came up from the crowd, piercing the deep music. Zell and Quistis both looked into the general vicinity. 

Squall held both his hands up high, a balloon labeled "non" in his mouth, hopping far above the ground. 

"Huzzah!" Squall shouted, jumping higher, inhaling the entire balloon. "Huzzahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Squall shouted again in a higher-pitched voice. 

Quistis pursed her lips. Zell looked at the entrance again, "My Ifrit, he sounds like a mouse. Where DID that dude go?" 

"Let's go." Quistis said commandingly, "I forgot that there's a physical education test tomorrow that all personnel must take." 

Zell looked quizzically at Quistis, "Test? Oh, surprise test that only the inner circle knows about. I've been hired by DJ Invader as a dancer so I've gotta stay here." 

"But Invader doesn't hire dancers…" Quistis said unsure. 

"Right…I mean 'dancers'" he replied, making quotation signs with his hands. 

Quistis raised her eyebrows for a short second then left to find Squall, who by now had hopped his way to the entrance to talk with the ska punks. 

Pushing through the people, Quistis made her way back to the entrance. The guys raised their hands to her, and one shouted something about her having a hot butt. She grabbed Squall and trotted toward the car. 

"Remember fellow skaters, Sartre will set you free!" Squall shouted as Quistis set into the driver's seat, pulling him down into the passenger's seat. 

The engine snarled with animalistic hunger. "A quarter of a tank; it should be fine." Quistis pushed into the gas pedal, setting the car loose from its static position and into its natural, slick forward motion. 

They rolled for several minutes, driving smoothly along the streets of Deling before getting to the main stretch. "So Squall, have a good time?" 

"The greatest, Quisty. Do you think I should get new clothes to make myself look like an author? I mean, I like this small jacket and all, but didn't you change stuff about yourself when you came into the limelight?" 

Thinking quickly on the off-topic question, Quistis answered, "Actually we all laugh at you behind your back because your clothes are ten sizes too small, but, yeah, new clothes couldn't hurt. I changed my wardrobe after _28 Hours_ wanted to do a special on me and all they could talk about was the pink dress I wore every day." 

Squall nodded, sticking the pacifier into his mouth. He made small sucking sounds. 

As they approached the highway, Squall pointed to something afire flying across the sky. "Hey look, Quisty, it's a big ball of fire." 

Quistis gapped in amusement. "It WAS hydrogen!" 

Squall realized what she was talking about, "Oh, that dude. He kinda reminded me of Fab Morvan." 

"Fab Morvan? Oh well. Hey, Squall, are you still going out with Rinoa. I mean…well, I've always…Do you…?" Quistis asked, blushing. 

Squall smiled, putting an arm around Quistis, "Girl, you know it's true." 

"What?" 

"Baby, don't forget my number." 

"But that has nothing…" 

"It's your thing." 

"Squall, your replies don't have anything to do with what I'm asking…" 

"Blame it on the rain." 

"Ah, forget it, we're almost to Garden. Before you leave, would you like to borrow my 'Deceased or Animate' CD?" 

"No thanks. I'm more into heavy techno now." Squall replied. 

"Fine. So this is it. All or nothing." Quistis said, beginning a thought. 

"You might say that." 

"Spin me like that again, sometime later, okay?" 

"Me?" 

"Right, just don't get lost." 

"Round here I'll be waiting. Tomorrow." 

"Like a record." Quistis said smiling, "Baby, right round round round." She stopped the car and stepped out. Walking to a sparse patch of grass in the wide open field she spread her arms and looked into the sky. She spun around quickly, spinning and spinning, twirling and losing herself to no particular moment of time. Time did not exist, and Squall no longer appeared as an achievable boyfriend. Life quickly reorganized itself. 

Squall stood back against the car, smoking a cigarette; he pulled the sunglasses over his eyes. "So free," he thought, looking at Quistis playing in the field, "Dark and black and blind, sight is lost behind these sunglasses. Perfect for this withered world of lost, lightless minds." He said aloud as he joined Quistis. 

They twirled together, the core of a generation spent. Squall's extended boa encircled them both, wrapping them together and tearing them apart. 

Quistis whispered to herself mingling thoughts, "Rinoa, Rinoa, perhaps you will find another Squall. A Seifer to carry you from your stupors." 

Earth shifted clockwise at first, shifting counter-clockwise in a moment. Boundlessly spinning wildly. 


End file.
